Monday, June 3rd. Vancouver, Washington.
Day eleven of house sitting with Bailey and Murphy. Nerves are raw and fully exposed. Patience has run dry. Morale is low. Bailey's constant whining has driven Murphy and I to devise escape plans. For Murphy, that means an innocent request to be let outside to relieve himself, knowing full well that Bailey is too short to see over the windowpane. If he were three inches taller, Bailey could witness Murphy's furious digging at the bottom of the wooden backyard fence. You don't get to be Murphy's age without becoming crafty. I wish him luck, but have to save my own ass first. In eleven days, this has become a Lord-of-the-Flies dog-eat-dog situation.
Early the next morning, I pulled the old "Hey, is that a duck riding a unicycle?" gag, while pointing out of the living room window, enabling me to slip out long enough for a photo shoot at Gary Mathis' Ascari bicycle shop. Gary is an old southern Oregon hot rod pal, now relocated to the Laurelhurst neighborhood in Portland. He shares the high end bicycle shop with some "extreme" woodworkers, who blew my mind with their out-of-the-box approach and over-the-top skills.
Wednesday, June 5th.
With Bailey's obsessive omnipresence, escape seemed impossible - until Mark Brislawn ("Briz") called, with a reminder of the evening car gathering at nearby Portland International Raceway ("PIR" in local speak). Yes! I could almost taste the sweet fresh air...
Next time: The shocking conclusion of the Swimming to Vancouver series! You don't want to miss this one!!! Meanwhile, be sure to visit our corporate office and qualify for valuable prizes: www.gossonbrosracinglibrary.com